My boy is back... with a cold shoulder

Well, Blogger is forcing me to use their new interface, and it is not compatible with the browser I use at work.  Thus, I just get frustrated and yearn to throw things... but I mainly just close the window and go on to read about drag queens.

But, here I am.

Slow, but here I am.

Last Sunday I rode out with Anne-Marie and Stephanie.  Peanut had his boots on, and we planned for a ride of 1.5 to 2 hours.

After an initial fun time with Mona thoroughly not enjoying two bikers headed our way (one of which I had to insist three times to stop as he kept hurtling towards the very calm Nuts), we settled into the trails.  I should mention that Steph had taken Gene back to where Mona was with the first biker while I met the second and explained the situation.  I followed that biker back to everyone else, and Peanut was so chill that I think he actually ran into the rear wheel of the bike at one point.

We headed for the psychologically terrifying bridge, which involves about a mile of rolling uphills through what I find are boring fields.  I could barely get Peanut to move - I kept saying he was moving at the speed of ooze.  When we got close to the bridge, and I was preparing Steph for the experience, we noticed a parafoil stunt kite leaping about behind the trees on the other side of the road.  Not wanting to risk a tragic bridge spook (imagine flimsy looking rails maybe coming up to ankle height, at most, with a drop to a somewhat busy road below), we turned around.

We then decided to stick in the woods, as Mona was being a bit of a pill.

When we were about to turn away from going home and down the a trail into the park, Steph and Gene were in the lead.  Gene, being an appy, had other ideas.  With him planted at the turn, I slipped Peanut by and we led the way down to the stream crossing.  Peanut did wonderfully, and offered not a smidgen of resistance (although I do think he was thirsty - that horse can be led to water and you better get out of his way because he damn will drink).

Once we crossed the stream, we opened up the horses.  Not constantly, but when there were nice stretches of uphills or flats without too many roots we just took off.  I was in the lead and cantered, knowing that Peanut's canter = a real horse's trot.  What happened to gaited horses being hard to keep up with?  The thrill of hurtling down a narrow trail and dodging trees, the wind whipping you in the face, and a horse rocking back and forth in the canter below you is breathtaking.  At one point Peanut leapt over some roots while cantering, and it was fabulous.  At no point did I feel left behind, and I never once felt at all precarious in the saddle.  It was complete freedom and unity between me and my Nutterbear.

I haven't had an enjoyable ride in months.  Not since the fall, at least.  Seriously.  Every ride was just a jaunt out into what would be a bad memory... except for this one.  I had a very willing horse, who was completely ready to go deeper and deeper into the park (we had to slip by Gene twice more when he balked at intersections), and who was giving me speed without complaint.

I've also been two-pointing the canter lately, as I could just never find the rhythm.  There was no issue like that, and I just flowed into each and every gait without thought.  I did stand up in a wide straightaway, but it was intentional to let Peanut switch gears into a gallop.

So, this is how good it can be?

Twice I swung Peanut around to block the trail, as he makes a good palomino roadblock.  The first time was when Mona took off at an unasked for trot, and I swung him around and he gave Mona a withering glare.  The next time was during the gallop when I heard Stephanie having trouble behind us.  I grudgingly slowed Peanut down and swung him, blocking the cantering Gene and Steph who had lost a stirrup.  I didn't realize that Peanut was going fast enough to allow a speed demon like Gene to canter, but I must have been going faster than I thought.  Gene really takes after his thoroughbred side and, in his prime, probably could have outrun just about anything on four legs.  Now, he still makes Peanut look like a Pokey Pony.

I was glowing from that ride for quite a while.  It was just so very good.

On Monday, I went to the barn as I took the day off and had to drop off board anyway.  I wandered out into the field (which has gone from 15 acres to 20+ with the temporary joining of two fields) and haltered up Peanut.  All of the horses were of course pretty bloody far from the gate and over a hill.  After Peanut stopped a few times, causing me to pull him to get him to move, I thought the hell with it and took off the halter.  By this time Gene had started moving towards the front of the field and I figured that I would just take him out to graze on some of the lush, long grass in the park.  Peanut doesn't get to graze on this grass because he's a fatty, but Gene doesn't have such issues.

I never haltered Gene, we just walked side by side with me occasionally patting his neck or slipping him carrots.  Eventually, I heard nickering and found that Peanut was following us at a distance.  Meh, missed his chance.

At one point, Gene angled to go out of the side gate when I was still moving to the bottom gate.  I tried to get him to follow me, but he just stared like there was no way he was leaving the field through any other gate.  By this point, Peanut had caught up and, fine, whoever followed me would get to leave the field.  I walked a little more and looked back to find the two standing close together, looking at me.

I should note that I often don't halter Peanut until we get to the gate.  He often follows me all the way down.

After a few minutes of us regarding each other, Peanut moved in front of Gene and turned around.  Gene turned around as well, and they both walked perfectly side-by-side back to the back end of the field.  I just watched them, walking away, never looking back, never faltering from their path, never falling out of step with each other, until they disappeared over the hill.

Shaking my head and chuckling, I went back to the barn and hung up the halter.  Ah well, I was tired anyway and my heart wasn't in it.